


Reflection

by flowerfan



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Closeted Relationship, Communication, Established Relationship, Late night talks, M/M, Reaction to Junior Year #8
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-23
Updated: 2016-09-23
Packaged: 2018-08-16 22:29:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8119984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowerfan/pseuds/flowerfan
Summary: After the game with the Aces, Jack and Bitty talk.





	

Jack sends Bitty a quick text as he leaves the rink, just letting Bitty know he’ll call soon. Bitty texts back, “okay – love you” and doesn’t ask any questions. 

It has become their routine – quick texts here and there, tiding them over until Jack can be alone, and they can talk. The dull ache of hiding their relationship is ever-present, but Jack doesn’t have a solution for it, at least not right now. All he can do is give Bitty as much love as he can, and soak up Bitty’s love in return, and hope that’s enough to carry them through.

When Jack finally makes it back to his apartment he leaves his shoes and jacket by the door, and starts pressing Bitty’s number before he even sits down on the couch.

“Hey there, handsome.” Bitty’s voice is soft. “How are you? You didn’t get hurt in that dogpile, did you?”

“Just a few bruises, I think,” Jack replies, pressing a hand to his side where someone’s knee had landed. “Nothing serious.”

It’s quiet for a moment, and Jack leans back against the couch cushions, closing his eyes. He can imagine Bitty is there with him in his apartment, maybe standing in the kitchen, waiting for a pie to be ready. “Tell me about your day,” he says finally. He knows there is more to say – about the game, about Kent – but he’s not quite ready.

“Well, I’m in bed now. But it’s been a long day. Classes, practice…”

“No baking?”

“As a matter of fact, I made maple apple pie today. Four of them.”

“What’s the occasion?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Autumn. Turning leaves. Harvest time.”

“That it?”

Bitty chuckles. “Maybe an upcoming visit to a certain Canadian friend of mine.”

 _Friend._ Jack can’t object to the word – they were friends long before they were more – but he wishes they could let the world know the truth. Jack lets out a long sigh. “I can’t wait to see you.”

“Me neither. And don’t you try to make me study the whole time, either. We have barely thirty-six hours together and flashcards will play no part in our activities.”

“Oh? How can you be sure?”

“I’m leaving them home.”

“What if I have another set?”

Bitty huffs at him. “Who says you get to make all the rules?”

Jack starts to reply, something about being Bitty’s elder on the tip of his tongue, but stumbles over it and closes his mouth. He is making all the rules. It’s his career that is dictating everything about their relationship. Bitty is finally out and proud, free to be himself, and Jack is making him lie again. It isn’t fair.

“Jack?” Bitty asks gently. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, sorry.”

“I actually don’t mind all that much when you make me study,” Bitty says carefully. “I was just chirping you.” Bitty sounds worried, on uncertain ground, and that isn’t fair either. Jack wishes this was easier for him, this whole communication thing. Bitty deserves better.

“I know. That’s not it. It’s just…” Jack slides back into silence. He doesn’t want to say it. Doesn’t want anything to change. And that’s the problem in a nutshell – he knows the situation isn’t good, but he isn’t willing to do anything about it.

“Do you want to talk about Kent?” Bitty asks.

Bitty doesn’t realize that talking about Kent is a welcome distraction from his guilt, Jack thinks. But it’s also something they should talk about. Bitty couldn’t have missed the looks Kent was shooting in his direction, even if Jack had done his best to keep his focus on the game.

“There’s nothing to be concerned about. Everything with Kent – it’s in the past,” Jack says. It’s what he’s been telling himself for days.

“It seems like it might not be that way for him,” Bitty replies stiffly. “What he did at the end of the game… that wasn’t a smart move.”

Jack sighs. “Honestly, that’s just the way he plays sometimes. He lets his emotions get the best of him. He’ll get over it.”

“You think? It didn’t look like he was getting over it.” There’s a hint of judgment in Bitty’s voice, and it makes Jack nervous.

“Do you think I did something wrong?”

“What? No, honey, no. You don’t owe him anything,” Bitty responds almost automatically. Then there’s a pause, and Jack waits for the other shoe to drop. “But it might make future games less dangerous if the two of you talked it out, as much as I hate the idea of you being alone with him.”

“You said you weren’t jealous,” Jack says – it slips out before he can stop himself.

“I’m not jealous, sweetheart,” Bitty replies genuinely. “I just remember the things he said to you, and I don’t want you to have to go through that again.” He sighs. “Oh, forget it. I don’t know what I’m talking about. Maybe focusing on the game and ignoring him completely is the right way to go.”

Jack wants to bang his head into the coffee table, because Bitty has clearly identified his approach not only to his recent issues with Kent, but with so many other things in his life. And generally speaking, it doesn’t actually work all that well.

“I’ll sleep on it,” Jack says. “And maybe we can talk about it again sometime?”

“Of course, honey. Anytime.”

Jack smiles. “Maybe try that again without the ice dripping from your words?”

Bitty laughs. “Fine. Kent Parson is not my favorite person, big surprise.” His voice gets quieter. “But if you want to talk about how he makes you feel, then talk away. Because you, Mr. Zimmermann, you are my favorite person.”

“Bitty…”

“Hopefully that part isn’t a surprise.”

“I love you, Bits,” Jack breathes out, not sure there is anything else to say in response.

“Love you too, Jack.” There’s a creaking noise, and Jack knows Bitty is turning over in bed – the springs in his mattress creak, something they had discovered on Jack’s first overnight trip to Samwell. “Are you sure you’re okay about the game tonight? You looked so sad afterwards.”

Jack frowns. He forgets sometimes that Bitty (and the rest of the world) can watch him in all his glory or defeat, every game, every minute. Close up and personal. 

“I really am okay, Bits. I mean, it stings. But I’m not the only person on the team, and I did my best.”

“And your best is pretty amazing. The Falcs are lucky to have you,” Bitty says confidently. 

“Thanks.”

“I’m proud of you, Jack.”

A wave of emotion washes over him, and Jack thinks that he needs to go to sleep soon, before he ends up saying something embarrassing. Because he hears Bitty in his head saying those words to him all the time now. Whenever negative thoughts threaten to overwhelm him, whether it’s a teammate asking him about whether he’s racing home for a hot date, or the coach eyeing him carefully as they went over strategy for the Aces game, he lets himself think about Bitty’s voice saying sweet words of encouragement; of the collection of post-it notes on his refrigerator. 

“I know, Bits. And…” he struggles, wanting to get the words out. “It means a lot to me. It makes a difference.” He can give this to Bitty. Even if Jack can’t tell the world the truth, he can share himself with this wonderful, loving boy.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Jack takes a deep breath. “I wish Kent had someone like you. Then maybe he wouldn’t be so angry.”

“You still care about him a little, then,” Bitty says thoughtfully. “Enough to wish him well.”

“No, Kent’s in the past-” 

“It’s okay to care about him, Jack.” Bitty’s voice is soft, but sure. “You don’t have to, but if you do, it’s okay. He was your friend. ”

“My best friend,” Jack whispers. “But I don’t know what to do with him now. He doesn’t fit in my life anymore. Not the way he wants to.” Jack feels tears welling up in his eyes, and he rubs them quickly, not that Bitty can see him all the way from Samwell.

“Maybe we could talk to him together? Go out for lunch or something?”

Jack swallows hard. “You’d do that?”

“Sure. I mean, it might take a while for our schedules to all match up. But what I saw out there tonight, Jack… I’ve been pretty harsh when it comes to Kent. But I’m starting to feel a little sorry for him.”

Jack barks out a laugh. “Really?”

“Really. I mean, let’s face it. Like you said, he doesn’t have me.”

Jack can hear the smile in Bitty’s voice, and he wishes he was with him so he could bask in Bitty’s own personal brand of sunshine. And then kiss that smile until Bitty was too distracted to talk about Kent Parson anymore.

“You’re absolutely right.” Jack sighs, which turns into a yawn.

“Oh honey, you must be exhausted. Better get to bed now,” Bitty says. “Another day, another drama.”

“Don’t want any drama,” Jack mutters, standing up and going into his bedroom. “Just want you.”

“Well, you’ve got me, handsome,” Bitty says. “And I’ll be there in person soon. Just try to stay in one piece until I get there, so I can take you apart myself.”

“Bits!” Jack says, pausing in the door way to his bedroom. “What did you just say?”

“Mmm, sorry. It’s late, my filter’s gone. I just miss you,” Bitty says plaintively.

“I miss you too, Bits. So much.”

They exchange increasingly sappy goodbyes for a few more minutes, and then Jack gets ready for bed and climbs under the covers. He lets himself think about Kent - lightly, no pressure - and finds that Bitty is right on all counts. Jack does need to talk to Kent. Jack may want it to be over between them, but Kent hasn’t let it go, and Jack… Jack can no longer pretend that Kent doesn’t exist, because it isn’t true. Bitty is also right about Jack being lucky to have Bitty in his life – someone who truly loves him, and wants the best for him. His life is no longer solely about hockey; it hasn’t been for a long time now, not since Samwell and friends who have his back - and Bitty. 

Jack lets these thoughts exist together in his mind, getting used to the idea that he could, maybe, have Kent in his life without having to give anything else up, and then he falls asleep, dreaming of maple apple pie and a certain sweet southern baker who is cleverer than he first appears.


End file.
